Road Trip To Hell
by Pigs-Make-Noises95
Summary: Tired and hungry, Chad and his girlfriend, Diana -Di for short- , pull into a nice area for a good nights sleep. Unknown that their road trip to Atlanta would soon be ruined by their 'broken' down car and the arrival of 3 unusual men.


Road Trip to Hell

I'd been in that god-forsaken town for nine days now and kept in that metal contraption for about two of those days. I could feel the chains cutting into my wrists. He'd be ready soon and that would be the end. There was no point in screaming but still my instincts made me plead for my life. Even though I knew it was real, I prayed it wasn't. You cannot defeat the inevitable.

"Please, no. Don't, please," I screamed begging, pleading him to stop. He just looked up and smirked. He was cold hearted. He only enjoyed watching people in my position in pain.

"It will only hurt for a moment," I heard him muffle under his white mask.

He reached for the hunter's knife and let it shimmer in the light. A smile grew across his face and he lunged the knife forward into the side of my torso. He collided the blade with two of my rib cadges but the knife went through to puncture a lung and with the knife still in me, I had serious bleeding..

I screamed at the top of my lungs before the thick red blood I began choking on cut me out. I could see blackness coming from the corner of my eyes. Light turned to dark, dark to nothingness. I was slipping into unconsciousness. Slowly, and painfully dying. Blood still flowing out of me like my own internal fountain.

Suddenly I heard a slam come from upstairs. I felt the knife leave my now aching skin. I slowly and painfully raised my head and fought to open my eyes. Finally, I managed to and began squinting, noticing that Vincent was no longer there. It was a while before I heard the noises stop. I tried to use my peripherals to see what it was, to see anything but all I saw was a shadow moving. It was too small of build to be Vincent. Was it his brother, Bo? No, it couldn't be. This man wasn't wearing a mechanics hat. He was much to slim to be that stupid idiot. It was Chad. He'd found me. I saw he had some sort of object in his hand the he was dragging down the stairs. He looked badly injured, he was limping and it looked like he'd dislocated his left arm.

"Chad!" I screamed in relief. It was a raw, dry sound and it didn't come out loud but loud enough for him to see I was happy. He just stared at me in silence. "Chad, help me get out of here. Chad. Help me!" I began raising my voice that was now throbbing in pain. I began to wonder why he wasn't running to help me out of the chains. "They'll get us both if you don't get me out. CHAD!" I started to scream at him with impatience. My voice was still being cut out from the blood. Chad just stood there, staring at me, still not talking. He started to walk around me, his eyes focused on my face. He walked past the blood-covered knife, the one that was wedged in between my rib cage earlier, and the shine from the blade lit his dark face. He turned away but I was able to catch a quick glimpse of his horribly sagged eyes and the torn off ear on the right side of his face. His black shirt had been covered in mud from the swamp crossing, leading into the town. He had several cuts to the face, arm and right leg. He looked like it just lost a fight with a bear. They would have been the wounds received after being in that fight with Bo. He' didn't look himself. I bet the isolation of this town must have got to him. I could tell he'd be like one of the brothers soon. Just as twisted and mental as them.

I began to stare into his eyes, or what I thought were his eyes, from the darkness I could see nothing, and quickly noticed the top of his eye was gushing out blood but because of his mud covered skin, I was unable to see it before. The reflection of the light was a big give away. He quickly shifted his gaze from me to the bloody knife.

"Chad what are you doing?" I asked, panic growing in my choky voice. The blood had made it all most impossible to talk properly now without gasp in between words.

"Di, do you remember the first day we started that horrible trip to Atlanta?" he replied to my question, smirking.

"Wha-" I stuttered, confused by what he said.

"I do," he quickly interrupted "it was the day I bought your engagement ring. I was going to propose to you the day we reached Atlanta. I spent half of my year's earnings on that goddamn ring, and what for?" he paused, but quickly broke the silence, "Nothing. You want to know why? Because it was your idea to camp out for one night in this piece of crap area and look where we are now, in this god-forsaken town for Christ-sake. With no food, no water, not to mention no sanity and absolutely no chance in escaping, but," his sly smile grew, "cannibalism is a very low sink for food but hey, at least I'll survival longer than your short life," he paused, lifting the piping into his hands and wiping it down with his dirt covered hands. "Oh don't offer yourself up to me, I got it," he laughed thinking it was a good smart-ass comment. He was silent again, still walking around me but this time, slower and more focus on the knife than myself. He reached for it after a while and, as like Vincent, let it shimmer in the light. He began to test its sharpness, tearing his gaze away from mine.

"What a shame, what a shame. I guess I'd get over it, after I finish slitting your fucking throat. Maybe I could even join the club in what Vincent and his fuck-wit brother Bo do, seeing as I fit the quota and all, " he quickly moved from in front of me to behind me and began whispering in my ear, "You know what they say, kill a man, a murder. Kill a million, a king. Kill them all, a god," he paused again, "And guess what," He pulled his head back and strode back to face me, " don't give a fuck if you die because your just a pile of shit in the walk way to me. Saving you is like proving there is a god, or walking on water, whichever one sounds more impossible." He began to stride around me once again. I noticed more anger in his strides now. His face turned sour. "You know what being a nice boyfriend got me? A broken leg, a dislocated arm and a shot off ear. All because of you and your pathetic idiocy that brought us here in the first place. Thank you Di for ruining my fucking life. Oh sure, I'm going to ruin yours now, but at least it'll be worth it." He yelled, putting down the knife and raising the metal piping he had in his other hand.

I began to go into shock both because of Chad and my injuries. If he didn't kill me now, the knife wounds soon would. I knew this was the end because I've seen it before. In the nightmare I've had every night since we took the trip to Atlanta. The one nightmare Chad didn't know about. The dream that if I had, I would wake up screaming afterwards. Chad never understood why I wouldn't tell him. He always questioned if I was all right, not knowing that it was he who I was afraid of. I prayed it was just another realistic dream. But it wasn't. Things were too different. They made sense this time. How I got there, why I was that metal contraption, why Chad was killing me. Why Chad wasn't holding the metal plumbing instead of the knife that just appeared in his hand. Why had I seen it different in my dreams?

The nightmare suddenly stopped playing in the back of my mind and I was brought back to the image of my sudden death. Chad seemed to be grinning, overjoyed about his decision to kill me. He began to yell, preparing to swing the pipe, when we heard the door burst open. There stood Vincent and Bo. Knife and a piece of broken glass in hand. The look on their face was so terrifying was enough to make you rip right out of your skin and run away. Chad swung around, striking the metal pipe against my temple and knocking me out.


End file.
